


From the day that I met you

by KhaSterek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (Derek cheats on Paige), Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Cheating, Discussion of Rape, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Derek Hale/Paige, Misunderstandings, Modern Royalty, Prince Derek Hale, Rich Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:35:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25578184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KhaSterek/pseuds/KhaSterek
Summary: Stiles is used to this, he shouldn’t be, but he is. Derek comes and goes as he pleases, takes what he wants from him and leaves as fast as he came. It has been this way for a while now. They don’t talk about these endeavors, both of them know that this doesn’t have a future, even if both of them want it to. A prince cannot be with some rich boy when he has no title.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 14
Kudos: 265
Collections: Another Present Under the Tree





	From the day that I met you

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [sisforsterek](/users/sisforsterek/) for beta reading s2s2  
>   
> English is not my first language.  
> Don't like it Don't read! 
> 
> Like Thumper once said. “If you can't say something nice, don't say nothing at all.”  
> If anything isn't accurate with real-life call it artistic license.

Stiles remembers the exact day he met Derek, more than a decade ago. His mother took him to visit her sister in the palace—his aunt worked there in the kitchen for a few years—and Stiles kept nagging her to go out to the gardens . At first, she said no, because they couldn’t wander around the palace;they were only there to visit his aunt, but then Princess Laura appeared, and she saw Stiles with a bored face beside his mother and asked Claudia if she could borrow him to play with her brother. Claudia had no other choice than to let him. The little boy grabbed the Princess’ stretched hand excitedly, and she led him towards the garden where Derek was sitting on the bench with a pout, his arms crossed.

“You can stop pouting now, you spoiled brat; I brought you a friend,” Laura had said as she pushed Stiles in Derek’s direction.

Derek had looked up at him and smiled so bright that Stiles didn’t even know what to do with himself. After that first day, Princess Laura demanded Stiles to be at the palace to entertain her little brother regularly. Later, he told his mother that it was love at first sight. Claudia had laughed at his 8-year-old self and said that Stiles didn’t even know what love was. She hugged him and smacked a kiss to his cheek, telling him to go play with his sister. 

Today, at twenty, as Derek pushes him into the bedroom of his apartment, he knows that his young self was half right—half because even though he loves Derek, it wasn’t at first sight. They grew up together, and as they grew, Stiles fell in love with Derek gradually but surely, until he couldn’t breathe. And it was both exhilarating and completely disappointing to love his best friend, the Prince of Beacon. 

“How much time do you have?” he asks as Derek nibbles at his collar bone, pressing him into the wall of his bedroom. 

Derek stops just a little to say, “Enough,” then dives in again, biting and licking his skin, making Stiles crazy. 

Stiles is used to this, he shouldn’t be, but he is. Derek comes and goes as he pleases, takes what he wants from him and leaves as fast as he came. It has been this way for a while now. They don’t talk about these endeavors, both of them know that this doesn’t have a future, even if both of them want it to. A prince cannot be with some rich boy when he has no title, even if Stiles’ mother is just as rich as the royal family is, even if Claudia is as famous, being one of the most well-paid and known actresses ever.

Stiles groans and moans as the prince pushes and pulls exactly the way he loves. He ends up lying on his side, Derek pushing inside him as they kiss until they’re breathless, until they both orgasm in synchrony. And it’s so wonderful and romantic, that for a second, Stiles forgets that the only thing he will ever have with Derek is this, stolen moments of pleasure.

They stay in that position until they catch their breaths, but too soon, Derek is pulling away, leaving Stiles empty and feeling the Prince’s seed slide down his skin.

The Prince gets up from the bed, and Stiles watches from the mattress as Derek grabs his scattered clothes from the floor.

“You’re already leaving?” he asks, sadness filling his chest.

Derek doesn’t look at him as he jumps back into his clothes. “Yeah, Paige is waiting for me, and I’m already late.” Then Derek is opening the door and looking back at him with that smile that melts Stiles’ heart. “But I will see you later in class?”

It’s not really a question, so Derek doesn’t wait for the answer; he just takes off in a hurry, leaving Stiles naked and dirty in bed.

He hides his face with his arms as he lets tears slip from his eyes. This didn’t used to be like this; no, Derek was different when they started this. Another thing Stiles remembers as clearly as day.

It was Derek’s eighteenth birthday. The party was incredible. The Queen and King opened the door of the palace for everyone who wanted to come to celebrate their son’s birthday. It was the first time Stiles was actually invited to a party at the palace. Because even though they were friends, and he did go there to visit the Prince regularly, he had never gone to a royal party before. He never saw anything like it, even the parties with the other rich families from his private school weren’t so beautiful, so well crafted. It was another world entirely. 

Princess Laura gave Derek and his friends some liquor—not much, just enough for them to get a little buzz and not to get drunk. It was her birthday present to her brother. Later, after the party was over, Derek asked Stiles to stay, just like so many other playdates before. It was normal for them, and Stiles didn’t think much of it.

When they got to Derek’s chambers, the Prince started to take his clothes off, looking intently at Stiles. “You didn’t give me a present, Stiles.”

He gulped, watching his best friend shirtless and smiling flirtatiously in front of him. “My mom left it in the pile with the rest of your presents,” Stiles answered, glued to the floor in front of the closed door.

Derek’s smile grew, and he stepped closer, opening his pants. “I know, but that was from your family, and I’m asking about yours. Don’t I deserve a special present, Stiles?”

The Prince was only a couple of feet from him. “Yeah.. sure... of course... what… what do you want?” he stammered. 

Derek got even closer, so close that Stiles could feel the heat of his body. “You,” the Prince said into his ear, breath touching his skin. “I want you. I have wanted you for so long.” When Stiles didn’t say anything, only looked at his best friend with his mouth open, Derek spoke again. “Can I have you as my present, Stiles?”

Stiles could only nod. He was too surprised with Derek’s confession. He thought that he’d never get to have him. That day, the sex wasn’t so good, but it was perfect in so many ways to him. Of course neither of them knew what they were doing, and it had hurt like hell, but Derek had been so gentle and careful, had kissed him, and told Stiles he loved him so many times.

And it was good for quite a while, for about a year and a half, and then the Queen told Derek he was going to marry Paige. It was like something changed for Derek. In a way, it did, and Stiles even knows why. Paige, he had heard about her a lot growing up. She is Derek’s first love. The Princess of Basthon, who Derek had met before him, who Stiles heard Derek saying he was in love with from twelve to fourteen. The same Princess that broke the Prince’s heart many years ago. Neither Derek nor Stiles knew that the Queen had promised his hand to her, in an agreement she had with Paige’s father when they were kids. Derek only just found out six months ago.

It was when Derek grew distant when they stopped seeing each other every day, when Derek stopped saying  _ I love you. _ And obviously, when the Prince started dating the Princess unofficially. 

Stiles knows he should put a stop to it. He knows he should walk away and tell Derek that this isn’t right. But he can’t seem to do it, and every time the Prince leaves him like this—naked and alone—he feels like his world will crumble at any minute. 

He gets up from the bed and goes to take a bath. He has class in a bit.

-

Derek arrives late at college, but the professor says nothing, of course;the Prince can come and go as he pleases, and nobody ever says a thing.

Stiles isn’t in a good mood, so he doesn’t say anything when Derek sits beside him, doesn’t even acknowledge him. Not until Derek makes him, as always, the Prince has to have what he wants. 

Derek elbows him, “I have something to tell you.”

Stiles sighs but takes his eyes from the teacher to look at Derek. “What, dude? We’re in class.”

The Prince frowns but doesn’t let this bother him for more than a couple of seconds. He smiles. Stiles can see that it is not for him, the smile that is. “Paige and I will make it official tomorrow at dinner with my parents.”

He keeps his eyes on Derek without saying anything, waiting for what else he has to say, because that can’t be it. He already knew that they were about to do that in the next few days.

“You wanna come? Mom said you’re family, so I can invite you,” Derek says, and now, now he smiles for Stiles.

Though he doesn’t care about that particular smile or the dinner. He arches an eyebrow. “And why would I want to go? It’s not like she likes me.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “I like you. I want you there. Besides, you’re my best friend, she will have to get used to your presence, right?”

Stiles scratches his forehead. “Look, Derek, I don’t think this is a good idea. We’re not the normal kind of friends.” Then he looks back at the professor.

“What do you mean by that?” the Prince asks, clearly annoyed.

Stiles laughs bitterly, still watching the teacher. “Do you really need me to explain it to you?”

Derek grabs his arm with force, not enough for other people to see but enough that Stiles knows he’s not kidding around. He wants Stiles to pay attention to him and will not have any other way. So Stiles relents and eyes him again, and surely, Derek has his brows furrowed in an angry scowl. “Yeah, explain it to me why my best friend doesn’t want to come to my engagement dinner?”

He doesn’t expect to hear  _ that _ word; objectively, he knew this day would come, but to hear it from Derek’s mouth is something else entirely. He holds his breath and fights tears, he cannot cry in class. After a couple of minutes he manages to calm down a little, Derek still has a bruising grip on his arm and a scowl on his face. “I didn’t know. I thought...” He swallows hard. “I’ll be there, of course.”

Derek still doesn’t let go as he leans in and softly says into Stiles’ ear. “Good. I’ll come to yours tomorrow morning. Wait at home for me.”

Stiles doesn’t have the strength to say anything, not at this moment, and not until the lesson is over. It’s the last one of the day, so Derek leads him to his royal car as always. But he can’t right now.

“I’m going to walk home, but thank you,” he says as Derek slides into the limo.

The Prince scowls, but his bodyguards are watching, and he can’t make a scene in front of them, so he lets Stiles go and closes the door.

Stiles cries as he walks home, and when he gets into his apartment, he goes to sleep exactly as he is.

-

When he wakes up at six am on a Saturday, he has half a mind to take a shower, brush his teeth, and get out of his apartment. He can’t deal with Derek wanting to have sex today, so he finds himself knocking at his sister’s door across town. 

“Stiles? What are you doing here at this hour?” Lydia says, rubbing her sleepy eyes, but she steps aside for him.

“Derek is getting engaged today. He demanded me to go to the dinner,” he says as he enters and flops on the couch in her foyer. 

Lydia is suddenly very awake. “Bastard,” she says, sitting beside him and engulfing him in a side-hug. “You don’t need to go. You can stay here as long as you want.”

He buries his face in her neck and cries softly. “I love him so much, Lyds.”

“Oh Stiles, I know, honey.” She kisses his head. “You knew this day would come.You need to end it, to hell with his wishes. It’s time for someone to say no to that jerk.”

“Why doesn’t he love me anymore?” He sobs.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think he ever did,” she says in a low tone, as if not to spook him.

Stiles lifts his head, eyes red and wet. “He did,” he says. “He said he loved me many times. You know that, right?”

She sighs. “I know, honey, but saying it and feeling it are two different things.”

Her brother shakes his head. “No...”

Lydia cups his face. “Okay, say you’re right. It doesn’t matter because he couldn’t be with you unless he stepped down from his position as Prince. You already knew that.”

“I know,” he says. 

“You also know that he loves being a prince too much for that,” his sister says with sad eyes.

He looks down and nods. Of course he knows that. How would Derek live if he couldn’t make people do his every wish all the time? He would never.

“Promise me you won’t go?” she says.

“Can I stay here all day?”

Lydia smiles. “Of course. The only reason we don’t live together is because of Derek. So you can move in for all I care.”

He smiles at her, the hurt going away just a tiny bit. His sister always knows how to make him feel better.

Stiles spends the whole day and part of the night lounging around her house, eating her food, and ignoring all the thirty calls Derek makes. Then after the last one, the Prince finally stops; Stiles is sure it’s because he’s with Paige and/or his family. It’s not like Derek to just leave it at that. His sister arrives from shopping with her friends and convinces him to go out with them. 

At the bar, Stiles stuffs his face with alcohol, and before he knows it, he’s kissing some random guy and then later on some random girl. It’s about 1 am when they decide to leave the bar. His sister begs for him to go to her house, but he says no. Part of him wants to sleep at home, because he knows Derek will be there first thing in the morning, and the other part just doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s so drunk. 

Lydia puts him in the cab, making him promise to call if he needs anything, which he does. The ride is too fast, even though he’s across town. He sleeps in the car, and the driver has to wake him up. He thanks the man, and when he grabs his wallet, the driver says it’s already paid. Stiles nods and gets out of the car.

He’s a little bit less drunk due to his nap in the car, so he walks to his apartment building in a straight line and doesn’t slump in the elevator. He struggles with the lock though.

Stiles thinks he’s trying to unlock the door for a couple of minutes when the door bursts open, and a very angry Derek stands in front of him.

“Where the hell were you?” the Prince growls out.

Stiles is too drunk to be bothered by that. He smiles. “Heey, your highness. What are you doing in my humble apartment?” His apartment is in no way humble for a normal person’s standard. But Derek is a  _ prince; _ he has a  _ castle _ .

Derek rolls his eyes, grabbing Stiles’ arm and dragging him inside. “Are you drunk?”

He keeps smiling at his lover. “Yep, went out with Lyds.”

The Prince scowls harder—he doesn’t like Lydia—as he closes the door and turns back to Stiles. “I called you several times.”

Stiles giggles. “Thirty times; I counted!” he says cheerfully.

Derek makes a noise that is close to an actual growl, then says through gritted teeth, “Glad to know you saw it. So why didn’t you answer?”

Stiles shrugs—he’s so not up for this—then takes his shirt off, walking away from Derek and into his bedroom to get to the shower. 

Derek follows closely. “I’m talking to you. Don’t turn your back on me!”

Stiles keeps walking, leaving a trail of his clothes until he is in the bathroom. “Tough luck, babe. I need a shower.”

He turns on the hot water and lets it wash away the hurt he is feeling over the engagement. The hot water slides down his body so nicely; he loves hot showers. It always makes him feel better. Even better when he has Derek in it with him, which doesn’t take long to happen.

Derek walks in, naked of course, and wraps his arms around Stiles’ middle from behind, then places a kiss to Stiles’ neck, biting a little. “Why do you do this to me?” the Prince asks, and it’s void of anger now. “I told you to stay home.” Another bite, with force this time, lips kiss down from his neck to his shoulder, then a really painful bite that makes him moan in both pleasure and pain. “Why didn’t you?”

Stiles takes a breath and says, “I didn’t want to be your snack before you went to the main course.”

Derek grabs him by his shoulders and flips him around, pressing him hard against the tiles with his body. This usually makes Stiles hard, but not today. “You  _ are _ my snack, Stiles.”

Stiles gets angry and pushes Derek away with both his hands on the Prince’s chest, Derek isn’t accustomed to Stiles fighting back, so he’s not expecting it. The look on his face is one of utter surprise as he stumbles back a little.

“Well, not anymore, Derek Hale.” He leaves the shower and doesn’t even care that he didn’t actually bathe. “You can leave your key when you leave,” he says as he dries himself. “We’re done.”

It takes a few minutes after he slips into his bed for Derek to appear from the bathroom. “Stiles?”

He doesn’t look at the Prince as he answers from under the covers. “What?”

Derek strolls towards the bed, and Stiles can’t help but look up at him. Beautiful and naked,  _ damn you, Derek Hale _ . “Why are you mad at me? I don’t understand.” His voice lacks his usual confidence and command.

Stiles’ defenses break a little. “I’m not.”

Derek sits on the bed and reaches a hand to Stiles’ damp hair, caressing it. “What then?”

He closes his eyes, and later he will blame the fact that he’s still a little drunk. “I love you, and you’re going to marry Paige.”

He opens his eyes just in time to see the Prince looking away for a moment, then Derek pulls the covers back and dives in beside Stiles, closing his arms around his waist. “You knew this would happen eventually.”

Stiles nods and closes his eyes again in an attempt to stave off the tears; he mostly succeeds. “I guess,” he says, then adds in hopes this time Derek will say it back like so many times before, previous Paige, “But I love you.” 

Derek doesn’t, instead, he kisses Stiles’ mouth, and for his shame, Stiles can’t say no, can’t pull away. One kiss turns into frantic kisses. Quickly Derek changes their position and gets on top of Stiles, parting his legs with his own so he can fit between them. Stiles has no strength to fight it, and he lets the Prince lead as he always does. They have sex like this, Stiles wrapping his legs around Derek as he’s penetrated slowly. They pant into each other’s mouths as Derek thrusts over and over, deep and slow, dragging it out. Stiles’ comes first between them, shutting his eyes hard as the orgasm hits him strongly. He feels his inner walls gripping the hard dick inside of him and Derek trembling over the edge a second later, biting hard on Stiles’ neck as he does. 

Derek holds him close, burying his nose against Stiles’ neck. They sleep like this, a tangle of limbs and messy come all over the both of them.

When Stiles wakes up, he’s alone in the bed. He looks at the clock, and it’s almost lunchtime, so of course Derek is already at the palace. What he’s not expecting though, is the key on top of a note on his bedside table. He jerks up on the bed and reaches for it. The note is simple. It says  _ You’re right _ . 

-

For the next two weeks, Stiles doesn’t go to his Friday class, which is the only one he has with Derek. He knows he’ll have to do it again next semester if he keeps missing it, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t know if Derek appeared at his apartment since he’s living in his sister’s house since that day. He does know though, that Derek calls him every other day and especially on Fridays. He never answers. Sometimes Stiles cries so hard that Lydia ends up in his bed at night, comforting him until he falls asleep. 

Then, at his Monday class, just as he’s exiting the classroom, Derek is right there. Leaning against the wall opposite to his classroom with his arms folded together. Stiles breathes in and walks up to him. 

“Hi,” he says.

“You can’t keep missing Friday class, Stiles,” Derek says without greeting him.

Stiles huffs. “I’m an adult, and I can do whatever the hell I want,” he says, walking away from Derek, only for Derek to grab his right arm, holding him in place.

“Don’t be immature. We can’t even be friends now?” the Prince says, and isn’t that a punch to his face.

“Fuck you, Derek,” he says, yanking his arms from the Prince’s grip. “You selfish bastard. Lydia is right.”

Again Derek looks so surprised with his best friend’s reaction that he doesn’t say anything, and Stiles walks away from him as fast as he can. 

His phone rings over and over throughout the drive from college to Lydia’s penthouse. Stiles feels like throwing his phone away, smashing it to the ground and yelling while he’s at it. He doesn’t, and thankfully Derek stops calling just before Stiles enters the penthouse.

Lydia is sitting at the dining table with her maid hovering over her as a few stainless steel serving dishes are set on it. She sees him and smiles at her brother. “Hey hon, you’re right on time. Dinner is ready.”

“I’m not hungry.”

His sister lifts an eyebrow at him, and he knows what she’s going to say, so he keeps walking towards the table. “I didn’t ask if you’re hungry. Sit down and eat; you’re too skinny, and you haven’t been eating properly since that asshole…” Lydia stops herself. “Just eat, please.” The  _ please _ is no less of a command than the previous sentence, but at least it’s polite.

Stiles sighs and sits beside her at the table. “What are we having?” he asks, resting his phone atop the table.

Lydia smiles brightly. “Your favorite.”

His cell vibrates while they’re eating, but his sister is faster and takes it away from him, giving it to Lizbella, the maid, who takes it to his bedroom even though he complains about it. The woman is not only Lydia’s maid but also their former babysitter and the woman Lydia treats like her second mother, even if she bosses Liz around. It doesn’t matter much, because his sister does it with anyone in her life, so it’s not like it’s an offense or anything of the kind.

Stiles can admit that eating was a good idea, even better when they talk for hours, ending up laying on Lydia’s enormous couch in her movie theater room. The projector takes the whole wall in front of the couch, the latter being so big that they can even use it as a bed, which is exactly what Stiles does, because in the middle of the second movie he’s out like a light.

It’s not until morning, after breakfast, that Stiles goes to his bedroom to take a shower and finally takes his phone in hand. It has new missed calls from Derek and a text. The Prince doesn’t text, ever, or apologize for that matter, so Stiles is decidedly surprised to read it.

_ I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry. Please come Friday? I miss you. _

He relents and replies faster than he should, faster than he can even think better of it.

_ Okay. _

Derek calls him back seconds after the reply. Stiles assumes that there’s no reason for him not to answer now that he texted the Prince back. The call is a little awkward, and Stiles ends it fast with the excuse that Lydia is waiting for him. 

The next day, Derek calls a few more times, even asks to see him, but Stiles says he’s staying at Lydia’s for a while. He can see that Derek wants to argue, wants to demand his presence. The Prince even huffs into the phone, but for some reason, Derek accepts it. 

-

Stiles is in front of the mirror deciding what shirt he’s going to wear for college. He feels stupid, when Lydia opens the door of his bedroom after a quick knock. He doesn’t look back at her as he yanks on yet another shirt, a deep blue one this time, to try another one.

“Aren’t you going to be late for class?” she asks, walking up to his side and taking a peek inside his wardrobe. It isn’t full, but for the past 3 weeks, he has been sending Liz to bring his stuff little by little.

“I’m dressing to go,” he answers, still looking at his shirts, he knows which one he wants, but it isn’t here. It’s at his own house. “I should’ve brought all of my stuff, Liz doesn’t know how to pick ’em.”

Lydia huffs in amusement. “Yes, she does,” then she has her hands flipping through his clothes, only stopping to see what else he is wearing. She frowns a little, but not like an irritated frown, just a curious one. “Are you going out after class?”

He ruffles his hair, then puts his arms akimbo. “No, I don’t think so. Why?”

His sister shakes her head, smiling a little. “No reason, hon. Here try this one.” She hands him a bright red button-down shirt.

Stiles quickly puts it on and contemplates it in front of the mirror. His hair is all crazy now, but the shirt definitely goes with his pants and shoes. “Thanks,” he says, turning back to her. She is smiling sadly.

“Come here, I’m taking care of that hair too.” she says, pulling him along with her to the bathroom where she makes him sit on the closed toilet. “You know, sometimes I can be a little judgy, I know, but I want you to know that,” she keeps going as she puts some gel on his hair, making it look like a styled mess. “I never want you to think that you can’t tell me something.”

“Okay,” he answers.

She smiles again, that sad smile, and he knows what she means; he knows what she is trying to say. “You look beautiful, hon. He’d be an idiot not to think so.”

Stiles looks away, embarrassed. “Thank you, Lyds.”

His sister nods. “Talk to him, Sti. Lay the cards on the table, so to speak. Tell him everything. And if he doesn’t feel the same, then well, at least you know, and you can move on.”

-

Stiles indeed is a little late to class, and Derek is already sitting in the second row with both seats on either side of him vacant as always; the Prince doesn’t let anyone sit beside them. Stiles wonders if the Prince sits alone in his other classes, or is it just this one that Derek wants to sit with Stiles only, even if Stiles doesn’t go. It’s a nice thought.

The professor is writing on the board, so he doesn’t see Stiles standing there, at the top of the large room, looking at Derek and deciding whether or not he should take his seat beside the Prince. He looks around, and sure he spots a few other empty seats he could use. There’s a few scattered around alone and only another pair of seats available one beside the other. He tells himself that he doesn’t care, but he chooses the only one that Derek could sit beside him if the Prince sees him. 

The professor finally stops writing and looks back at the class, spotting Stiles as he finally takes his seat in the middle of the fourth row. Roman, the teacher, doesn’t say anything but glances at his watch before he starts talking with the class. It’s a split of a moment, but it’s enough for Derek to take an interest and peek back.

Stiles kneads his neck as Derek’s piercing green eyes find his own, the prince scowls and gets up immediately, picking up his things. Stiles’ heart races in both happiness and fear.

He watches the professor nervously as Derek marches towards him and flops down beside Stiles, clearly irritated. He holds his breath.

“I was waiting for you,” the Prince starts, leaning into his space. “Why do you have to make things difficult?”

Stiles shrugs nonchalantly yet anxious on the inside. “I got here late, and this was closer to the door.”

Derek breathes out. “I thought we were okay again. We talked on the phone these past few days. What happened now?”

Stiles glances at Derek again. “Seriously? Those phone calls were pretty uncomfortable, and it didn’t last long,” he tells the Prince seriously. “We are not okay, Derek.”

The Prince visibly deflates. “What is happening to us? Why are you doing this? We’re best friends.”

He snorts. “I’m not here for this. I’m here because I need to pass this class.”

Derek nods. “Okay, but can we talk? Please, after class?”

Stiles closes his eyes, his sister’s words invading his mind. “Yeah, okay.”

The Prince grins. “We could go to that place we wanted to last month? I don’t remember why we didn’t.”

Stiles looks at Derek for a moment, he knows which place the Prince is talking about. It’s a new pub, and they didn’t go because people who go there are trying to hide something. The place was designed for that purpose only, anonymity. Nobody knows what happens in there, what you do, who you do it with. There are no cameras inside, no photos or recording allowed. You have to leave your electronic devices at the door. So it is safe to say that, if you go to a place like that you’re up to no good. And  _ that _ was why they decided not to go last month, Derek knows t hat. It would look shady for the Prince of Beacon to be spotted at the Whispering Waves.

It’s not a good idea, he kno ws that, but he misses Derek so much, and if the conversation goes as he hopes, then… “Fine,” he hears himself saying.

Derek beams and leaves Stiles alone in favor of watching the professor.

-

They go straight from class to the pub. Stiles is already dressed to the occasion, and Derek is generally in a suit. Today the Prince wears all black, which he decides to undress when they’re inside the royal limo. Stiles watches from his peripheral vision as Derek not only gets rid of his tie, but also his jacket, and folds the sleeves halfway up his muscular arms. It’s a struggle not to stare, to keep his face sideways, looking at the moving cars passing them by. 

He manages not to look at Derek for a few minutes, as the Prince tells the driver to wait for them at the pub and not tell his mother or Princess Laura where he’s going. But then Derek is poking his arm, wanting attention as always. Derek is attention-starved, he was always like that since they were little kids. Stiles doesn’t know if it’s just with himself or Derek is like that with anyone in his life, because when he is with the Prince he has to give all of his care to the other man.

“Hey,” the Prince says, pulling Stiles from his thoughts. When Stiles gazes back, the Prince has his dress-shirt open at the top two buttons, and his skin is on display. He obviously did on purpose if the smirk on his beautiful face is anything to go by. The prince makes a  _ like what you see _ face and says, “Are you hungry? Wanna go to a restaurant before?”

Stiles takes his eyes away from Derek’s chest and shakes his head. He doesn’t say anything else, just looks through the window again. He can hear the Prince huffing at the lack of reaction from him, and it makes him feel a little better. Though Derek doesn’t leave him be for much longer, taking Stiles hand in his as he tries to make conversation. Stiles doesn’t know what he’s doing, so he mostly just listens to Derek. 

When the car finally stops and the driver opens the divider, Derek scowls at the man immediately and says.  “I thought I told you not to open it.”  Akiya doesn’t even flinch; he’s used to the Prince’s behavior after a decade being Derek’s bodyguard and driver. 

“We’re here, your highness,” the man says with a bored expression before he closes it again, leaving them alone, or as alone as they can get with two bodyguards right there, with only a simple divider in the middle of them.

“You do know that there’s just no way he doesn’t know what we do here with that thing closed, right?” Stiles asks with an eyebrow raised in annoyance. 

Derek rolls his eyes as he pulls Stiles along so they can get out of the vehicle. “I’m not stupid, of course they know. But I don’t want him opening it anyway because what if we were without our clothes on?”

Stiles huffs and mutters, “that won’t be happening anymore.”

The Prince ignores him, and as he tosses his phone into the backseat, he says, “Come on. Leave your phone here. We can’t go in with it, you know that.” 

When Stiles lets go of his phone, Derek quickly places his hand on the small of his back and leads him to the entrance. It’s not something he wouldn’t do normally, and it doesn’t look anything but friendly. Still, Stiles hasn’t enjoyed his lover’s hand on him for a couple of weeks; he misses the heat of Derek’s body. Stiles sighs shamefully, content to just feel that hand on him. 

The entry of the  Whispering Waves has a few security guards standing on either side of it and around the line. There are two more bouncers letting people in and another checking the phones in a little window from the inside. Most people already don’t have their phones on them so they let those in faster, just checking with a detector. Stiles takes the entrance in, apart from the guards there’s not much that draws attention. The sign is not big enough to see from more than a block away, and it’s not very flashy. The color of the letters is a muted tone of red, and it doesn’t shine much like these things normally do.

He’s still looking up at the name of the place when Derek nudges him a little bit harder. “Stiles? It’s our turn.”

Stiles looks back at the Prince,  _ shocker he’s scowling _ , then steps up in front of the man with the detector. The man finishes up with him and then Derek pretty quick, nodding and saying, “You can come in your highness” to Derek as if they know each other.

“Do you know him?’ Stiles asks as they go through the threshold.

The place isn’t as dark as a club or bar would be, there’s music playing but not loud enough to get in the way of the conversation, and there’s no dance floor. On one side there’s a huge bar with stools and the other a row of booths. At the end of the corridor, there are two doors, one with a bathroom sign and the other with  _ private booths _ on top of it. The famous private booths, most people come here for those only. Stiles is sure that the private part is bigger than the pub itself because there are too many people entering the  Whispering Waves  and neither the bar nor the booths he can see now are crowded. 

Derek takes his hand, entwining their fingers, and pulls him along, towards the famous part of the pub.  _ Of course. _ “No, but I think my mother or Laura knows him. His face looks familiar, maybe I met him in the palace. I don’t know.” 

Stiles lets the Prince lead him to the door. “You don’t think he’ll tell them or anything?” he says.

Derek shrugs. “Even if he did, I am allowed to go out with my friends, especially you. My mother loves you.”

The private place indeed is bigger than the previous part of the pub. The lights are a little bit darker but still less than a club, same for the music. There’s no bar and the booths are separated by red curtains, the same red from the sign outside the pub; more security guards are in this place, waiters, and waitresses attend to the hidden booths.

A tall blonde guy stops in front of them with a friendly smile. “Welcome to the private booths of the  Whispering Waves. We only have a few rules here,” the man says as he gestures for them to follow him. “First, no phones, no photos, and no filming; if any of the security sees you using any of those, you will be escorted out. Second, keep your curtain closed for your and others’ privacy. And third, no sexual activity of any kind.” The guy finishes just in time to stop in front of an empty booth. He opens the curtains and motions for them to go inside. “Someone will arrive to attend to you in a couple of minutes. Feel free to read the menu.”

With that, the blonde guy closes their curtains and leaves. The booth is a little bit more spacious than a normal one. It’s made of a fluffy red material, and the table is a dark shade of wood. Stiles slides in first, allowing Derek to choose where he’s going to sit. The booth fits two or even three couples, he’s sure of it. 

The Prince sits beside him, close enough for him to feel their thighs and arms touching. Stiles feels as if they were on their first date. He’s nervous so he doesn’t meet Derek’s eyes.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Derek says, inspecting the menu. 

“I could eat.” 

A cute brunette girl opens the curtains, attracting their attention. “Hi, my name is Nina, and I’m going to be your waitress tonight. Are you ready to order or do you need me to come back in a couple of minutes?” she says with a smile.

Derek frowns, “I hope you’re not going to open that without warning all the time.”

Stiles looks at the girl with an apologetic grimace.  _ God, _ Derek is such a prick.

Nina just smiles widely. “No, sir. The first time, it is procedure for us to come here and explain how this works. We have this device,” she says putting a round purple thing on their table. “that you can tap and someone will come if you need, and when the food is ready and I’m bringing it to you the light will glow a few times indicating I’m coming. Otherwise, I won’t bother you.”

The Prince nods, “Good. We want two Smithwicks, Scampi Fries, and a Coddle.”

The girl takes note of that, then points her finger to the purple device, and says. “Remember, tap to ask for me, and when it glows it means I’m about to open the curtains in a couple of minutes. Enjoy.”

“You’re such an asshole sometimes,” Stiles says when Derek turns his attention to him. 

As per usual, the Prince ignores him. “Can we talk now?”

“Sure.”

They stare at each other for a few moments. Then Derek frowns. “Talk then, what is happening? Why are you so mad at me?”

Stiles makes an irritated face. “You’re unbelievable. I told you I loved you. and you’re marrying Paige. You said, not once by the way, that you loved me back,” he says, then adds quickly. “No, actually you said you loved me first!”

“Come on Stiles, I thought you understood what we had, that we could never have more than what we did. I am a prince!” Derek ignores part of what he said again, and Stiles is really getting sick of that. 

He sighs, closing his eyes. “I know that, Derek. I know that you’re a prince, and that you have to marry another princess or at least someone with a title. I guess part of me just hoped that you loved me enough not to do it.” He sighs again, but more irritated than anything else. “Stupid, I know. It is what it is. I’m not mad at you for not being with me anymore or even for marrying Paige. I just…” He rubs his eyes tiredly. “I just can’t deal with this right now, I need space.”

“But I still want to be with you, Sti,” Derek says as if Stiles was crazy for even thinking otherwise.

Stiles huffs. “And what? You want me to be your what, mistress?”

Derek keeps looking at him as if he kicked his puppy, which he takes as a confirmation of his question. Stiles looks away, trying to keep the tears from spilling. “What did you expect, Derek?”

The Prince takes his face between his hand, forcing Stiles to look at him again. “I don’t know. I just… I thought we’re on the same page. I thought you wanted this, us.”

He feels like his heart is being ripped out of his chest. “I want us, Der. But not the way you want it to be, I can’t. I love you too much.” 

Derek closes his eyes and rests his forehead on Stiles’ own. “Please, don’t leave me. You’re my best friend.”

It sounds so sincere that Stiles feels his stomach spinning, but not in a good way. Yes, Derek is his best friend also, but he is so much more than that for him. He is the love of his life, the person that, if Stiles believed in soulmates then Derek would be his. “And you’re mine. But I can’t, Der, I can’t. Not for a while at least. I need space.”

Derek holds him tight, burying his nose against Stiles’ neck. His world is shattering around him. He doesn’t know what he will do without his Prince in it. 

“Can we enjoy tonight at least?” Derek says as he pulls away from his neck.

“Yeah, sure. We’re already here.”

The Prince grins just in time for the purple thing to glow.

The mood lightens up a bit as they eat and talk about college, a neutral subject. He drinks one  Smithwicks after the other, trying to dull the ache in his heart. Derek stops on the second one, but Stiles just needs to forget for a while and enjoy what probably is the last time he’ll see his lover for a long time. 

When Derek finally tells Stiles that he can no longer drink, he is already way past drunk. He knows this because he’s leaning into his Prince for balance, and he’s laughing at stupid things. But this decision of getting drunk is in no way the worst of the night, no, the worst is when he decides that he wants to go home instead of to Lydia’s. At the back of his mind, he knows why he does it, but he is in no condition to think it through and stop it. Especially when Derek says he’ll take him home, and put him in bed.

-

Stiles wakes up sweating and with his head pounding so bad. There’s a firm arm around his waist, but he doesn’t remember where he is or with whom. He groans, putting both hands on his head, as he tries to remember. As he moves around trying to free himself from the naked body holding him so tight, Stiles starts to remember bits and pieces of last night. He curses as he finally manages to get up from his bed, and heads to the bedroom.

“Fuck,” he mutters. 

What the hell was he thinking? He should not have drank so much, and damnit he should not have had sex with Derek fucking Hale either. Well, one thing led to the other. If he hadn’t gotten drunk, he wouldn’t have had sex with the Prince. And Derek motherfucker Hale of course wouldn’t have passed the opportunity to stick his dick in him.

He enters the bathroom and locks the door. Fuck if he will let Derek get into the shower with him, now that he’s sober. Stiles hops into the shower and takes the most prolonged shower he ever has had.

As he expected, Derek knocks on the bathroom’s door while he is still in it. “Stiles? Why is the door locked? Open it!” the Prince says.

The bastard has the nerve to sound demanding. “Fuck off, Derek! Get the fuck out of my house before I charge you with sexual assault.”

Stiles knows that he is exaggerating, that Derek is probably feeling like shit with those words, but right now he honestly doesn’t care. He just wants Derek to go away and leave him alone.

After a couple of minutes, he hears the door opening and then closing. Derek leaves without saying a word. Suddenly, Stiles is filled with so much regret. He shouldn’t have had implied that Derek assaulted him. That wasn’t fair. He remembers giving as good as he got, even if deep down he knew it was wrong. He will always want Derek, and last night was no different. 

_ Fuck, what did he do? _

-

Apart from a text saying he’s sorry, Stiles doesn’t hear from Derek again. He thought that the distance would make him feel better, but it only makes him feel miserable. Every Friday Stiles waits to see if Derek will appear and sit beside him, but he never does.

He reads about the Prince and his girlfriend in the magazines and newspapers. But neither of those has much about the royal family in it, they are very private, and it helps that the Queen makes a mission of hers to stop news about her family to be exposed in the media. As Queen Talia is so loved by all of Beacon and respected not only by them but also by the world itself, they never let anything be published without her consent. It’s pretty amazing; nobody wants to go against the Queen’s wishes. 

It’s two months later when Stiles hears from the Prince, and it’s not even directed at him. He is lounging in Lydia’s theater room with his sister when Liz delivers a letter with the Royal seal on it to his sister’s hand.

Stiles sits up automatically and tries to snatch it from Lydia’s, but doesn’t manage it fast enough. She looks at him with hard eyes and takes the letter from his reach.

He turns to glare at Liz, who promptly says, “It’s not for you.” and leaves the room.

When he glances back at his sister, she’s already openi ng it. “It’s an invitation for your Prince’s 21st birthday,” his sister says in awe. “It says our family is invited, you, me, mom, and dad.” Lydia turns to him with wide eyes.

They were never invited before. At Derek’s eighteen birthday Stiles was only invited because the Prince begged his mother, but Stiles went alone. Now the Queen had sent an official invite to the whole family. 

“You wanna go?” Lydia asks, but he knows she’s dying to go and wouldn’t deny her that. She always wanted to go to a royal party. 

“Sure. Are we telling mom and dad?” he says.

His sister starts to shriek happily and gets up from the couch, saying they need to buy new clothes. When he hesitates, Lydia grabs his arms and pulls him along with her. There’s no denying her anyway, so he follows his sister without fuss. It will be a long day.

-

“Stiles! For the last time get out of that bedroom! Let me see! We need to go, and I don’t want to be late.” Lydia screams for the hundredth time, beating on the door of his bedroom.

He is sitting at the edge of his bed, with his hands on his head and his eyes closed. He doesn’t seem to be able to get up from it since he finished dressing and looked at himself in the mirror. It’s not that he doesn’t look good, he absolutely does. Lydia made him buy a new suit, one that she absolutely insisted that he had to wear for Derek’s birthday. The jacket and pants are a light shade of grey, with a white dress shirt, and a dark purple paisley tie. It’s really beautiful and fits him perfectly, but that’s exactly the problem. What if even if he looks as handsome as he could ever get, Derek doesn’t care? What if the Queen invited him just to be polite? What if Derek doesn’t even want him there?

It has been a month and a half with the Prince in radio silence. Stiles  _ knows _ okay, that he was the one asking for it, asking for time and space. But deep down, in his heart, he just wanted Derek to miss him so much that he had to burst into his life begging for Stiles back.

“I can’t!” he yells back at his sister.

He can hear her muttering something to Liz and cursing ever so low. Then she knocks at the door again. “You open this door right now, or I swear to God, I’ll have dad take it down!”

He sighs and gets up slowly, just to be a brat, but his sister is fully capable of it so he isn’t about to test her. “Alright! Geez,” he says as he opens the door with a frown. The frown quickly transforming into an expression of awe. His sister looks so beautiful in her long golden dress that she bought for the occasion. “Lyds, you’re perfect.”

She grins brightly at him, mimicking a bowing gesture holding the tip of her dress. “Same to you, baby brother. You look stunning and have nothing to worry about.”

“We haven’t talked for almost three months, Lyds. What am I doing? I shouldn’t be going,” he says, lowering his head.

“The Queen invited us. What he thinks or doesn’t think about it is his problem. Besides, I know you want to see him either way. If that asshole doesn’t talk to you, it’s just one more motive for you to keep going with your life as you’re already doing. Honey, it will go away eventually. I’m here for you whenever you need me. Okay?” Lydia says cupping his cheek.

He nods, and she doesn’t waste a second more, seizing his hand and hauling him along with her. 

When they arrive at the palace late, his sister complains, Stiles finds a more or less hidden table and stays there. Lydia doesn’t share his mood, so she quickly finds some people she apparently knows and goes about her night. From where Stiles is sitting, far from where the people who are actually partying are, he can see almost everything. Derek has Paige dangling from his arm the whole time, and they laugh together and talk with other people together. Stiles feels sick, the couple look so happy. Derek seems to be so carefree with her on his arm, something that would never happen with him. He watches them and drinks while he’s at it, knowing that he is probably going to get drunk with the number of drinks the waiter is letting him have. 

For about an hour the Prince doesn’t see him or pretends not to see him, Stiles doesn’t know which. And he’s drunk and irritated, and just about done with this party.

He gets up and heads to the exit, only for the Queen to stop in front of him. Stiles bows down to her. “Your Majesty,” he says.

“Stiles, I’m glad you came,” Talia says, then gestures for him to take her hand on his arm. “Walk with me?”

He hurriedly accepts her arm, nodding. “Of course, your Majesty.”

As she leads him far from the crowd, Stiles notices that Derek caught sight of them, and he can see the surprise on the Prince’s face. But he does not know if it’s because he only now saw Stiles or if it’s because his mother is walking with him.

The Queen hums, taking Stiles’ eyes away from Derek to land on her. “He didn't know you would come. It was my choice to invite you, dear,” she says. 

His eyes widen. “Why?”

“Because, I think I owe you an apology.”

Stiles thinks his eyes can’t get any wider. “What? Why?”

Queen Talia chuckles. “I think it’s my fault, that you and my son aren’t on speaking terms.”

He shakes his head. “No, that’d be me. I asked for space,” he says blushing, his state of drunkenness making him say things he shouldn’t, as per usual.

“I see,” she says, deep in thought. “Paige, right?”

Stiles gapes, and stammers. “Um... Yeah, yeah we.. um… He wasn’t giving our friendship much thought anymore and…”

The Queen chuckles again. “It’s okay, Stiles, I know how you feel about my son.” She pauses, then adds with a tilt of her head, “and how he feels about you.”

“Right,” he says, looking away from her.

“I told him to make up his mind. I told him to choose. I’m sorry, Stiles. I have nothing against you. I just wanted my son to grow up and make a decision for himself. I never thought that he was going to go through with it. I honestly thought that he would tell me you were the one he wanted. I don’t know what my son thinks. I’m so sorry,” the Queen says sadly. 

Stiles looks down and shrugs. “I guess he didn’t love me as much as you thought.”

“Maybe,” she says, squeezing his shoulder. “Enjoy the party, Stiles. I hope to see you soon.”

When she leaves, Stiles grabs a couple more drinks from the waiter and downs one in one go, as he again watches Derek with his future wife on his arm. Though Derek is no longer laughing, or smiling for that matter.  _ Good. _

He decides to stop by the bar to keep drinking, occasionally glancing at the saloon to catch Derek’s eyes. The Prince also watches him from afar from time to time. Their eyes meet more times than he can count. More so even than the number of drinks Stiles puts inside his body.

Derek finally leaves Paige and walks up to him. By now Stiles is so drunk his vision is a little blurry. But he’s not happily drunk at the moment, he is a bitter type of drunk, the worst type, one of those who get irritated easily. He doesn’t know but he is sure that if provoked right, he’d punch someone’s face right now.

“Stiles,” the Prince says with a big smile. “You’re here, on my birthday. I’m so glad you’re here.”

He laughs sarcastically. “Oh, I bet you are. After all, how would you get your birthday present of choice, am I right?” he says, and if he was sober, he’d regret it as fast as the words slipped through his mouth. 

Derek frowns. “What are you saying?”

Stiles gets closer to his lover, placing his left hand, the one with no drink in it, on Derek’s chest. “You can fuck me if you want,” he says suddenly. “in the bathroom, as your birthday gift, just the way you like it.”

Derek laughs hollowly, not finding it funny at all, he can tell. “You’re drunk.”

“I am,” Stiles says, taking his hand off of the Prince, “and you shouldn’t take advantage of me again,” he says seriously, then looks at Derek up and down and leaves towards the bathroom fast.

He feels his stomach stir as he walks to the bathroom. When he’s inside Stiles goes directly to the sink and splatters water on his face to calm down.

“Stiles?” He hears Derek’s tentative voice calling him by the bathroom door. 

He has his hands on either side of the sink as he’s leaning into it. Stiles lifts up his face a little to look at the Prince. “Did you come to claim your present, your highness? Is this position good enough for you?” he says wiggling his butt, but there’s no smile or seductiveness on his face and voice.

What happens next makes his head spin so fast that he sobers up immediately. Derek pales; runs to the nearest stall and throws up repeatedly.

Stiles instantly runs to Derek, crouching down behind him with his hand on his lover’s back. “Shit, Der, are you okay? What can I do?” he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply.  _ Fuck _ , he knew this was too much. He will never drink again, he’s a menace when he’s drunk.

“I’m sorry,” Derek croaks out between hurling. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Shhh. It’s okay, babe. Just… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, okay? Fuck, I’m sorry, Der. I’m so drunk, I don’t know what I’m doing,” Stiles says, rubbing circles on his Prince’s back, which he doesn’t know if it’s calming him or Derek.

Derek stops vomiting after a few minutes, but instead of getting up he sits down more and Stiles can’t help but open his legs so the Prince can fit between them. He holds Derek’s middle from behind, and his lover rests his head on Stiles’ shoulder.

The Prince is crying softly in Stiles’ embrace.  _ God, he feels so guilty _ . “Der, you didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want, I was just upset because you broke my heart. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have implied that you assaulted me. That was very…” He sighs. “I don’t even know.”

“You promise?” Derek asks so low that if Stiles wasn’t so close he probably wouldn’t have caught it. 

“Yes, I promise. You didn’t do anything I wouldn't want. Sure I was hurt, and if I was sober, I wouldn’t have let you take me home, not because I didn’t want to, but because we shouldn’t have.”

They stay in silence for a couple of minutes, but Stiles is smart, and he knows that Derek’s reaction was over the top, unless… “Der? Did something happen to you? You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Derek seems to shrink into himself, but he answers anyway. “Do you remember Kate?”

“Yeah, that friend of Laura’s. I’ve never liked her.”

“We… we dated for a while.” the Prince says, then pauses, and Stiles notices that his breathing is labored. He waits for Derek to calm down again, just holding him tight. “She wanted to have sex, but I couldn’t get it up.“ Derek starts to cry to again, and he keeps going still, between sobs as if he can’t hold it in anymore. As if he needs to tell Stiles so bad that he’ll do so even if it kills him. “I couldn’t get it up, because I was thinking of you and she told me to take a pill, and I did because I was scared of my feelings for you.”

Derek leans forward folding in on himself, and Stiles has no choice then to let him go, though he keeps his hands on Derek's hips to show the Prince he won’t go anywhere. “At first, it was fine, it was just kissing and some groping, then the pill kicked in and I got so hard it hurt. She went down on me and I let her even though I wasn’t enjoying much. But then when she took me inside her, I backed out. I told her I didn’t want it anymore but she didn't stop. She just wouldn’t stop!” Derek was sobbing violently now.

Stiles is crying with him, he can’t help it. Derek is falling apart in front of him, the man he has loved since he was a little kid. It’s like someone stuck a knife in his flesh and it’s bleeding. He holds Derek and keeps muttering assurances. 

Even when the Prince finally stops crying, Stiles doesn’t let go, neither of them do. He wants to ask about Kate, but he’s afraid to bring it up again now that Derek seems calm.

Derek looks back at him without changing their position, where Derek is sitting between his legs and he is wrapping his arms around the other man. Their faces are so close and Stiles has to fight the urge to just lean in and kiss his lover. He thinks Derek might do it for a moment, the way the Prince is looking at his mouth. What happens though is more unexpected.

“I never stopped loving you,” Derek says, holding his arms tightly as if Stiles would let go of him.

Stiles closes his eyes, a mix of happiness and sadness making him stop to think before saying or doing something he’ll regret later. Fortunately, or not, there’s an insistent knock on the door followed by Paige’s voice.

“Derek, honey? Are you okay?” The woman asks loudly through the closed door. Stiles can also hear the Prince’s bodyguard telling her she can’t go inside, and the Princess confronting him.

Just then Derek lets go of his arms; Stiles lets him go too, and the Prince gets up from the floor immediately stretching a hand so he can help Stiles up. He takes it.

“Stiles, I..” the Prince starts, holding his hand in his.

“No, Derek. Nothing has changed, even if you love me I won’t be your mistress. I can’t.” he says, letting go of his lover’s hand, and hugging himself.

Derek nods sadly and walks to the door. With one hand on the doorknob, he glances back at Stiles with a slight frown. “What did my mother want with you?”

He shrugs. “To apologize.”

The Prince’s frown deepens. “About what?”

Stiles scratches his chin, a little embarrassed. “About us, pushing you to be with Paige, I guess. She said that it wasn’t her intention, she just wanted you to make a decision for yourself.”

Derek blinks in confusion, but he leaves without saying another word.

-

“Nope, no way,” Stiles says, as he sees Derek at the door of his classroom Friday. He walks away rapidly. “You gotta let me go, Derek. I need to move on.”

It has been a whole week of peace, Stiles had changed his number the day after Derek’s birthday party, when he woke up with a text from Derek saying,  _ “Call me as soon as you get this.” _ He doesn’t know what Derek is thinking, but just because the Prince said he still loves him does not mean Stiles was going to crawl back to him and be his paramour or whatever the hell Derek wants him to be. 

“Stiles wait, we need to talk,” the Prince says, running after him.

“No, we don’t,” he insists, shaking his head. “What we need to do is stay far away from each other. Your love is not enough for me, and I’m not changing my mind about being the  _ other woman. _ ” He looks at Derek briefly just so he can make finger quotes at those two pesky words, then keeps darting away from the Prince.

“That’s not what I am saying. That’s not what I want anymore.” Derek tries again. “Please, let’s just talk privately.”

Stiles huffs. “I’m not going to be your friend either. I told you before, I need space so I can forget about you, and being your friend won’t help with that.”

“I don’t want you to forget about me,” the Prince says.

He laughs sarcastically. “Of course you don’t. Why would you? If you can have someone making heart eyes at you all the time.”

“Stiles, stop it! You’re making a scene, and you don’t even know how wrong you are.” Derek says—louder than he probably should at campus—seizing Stiles’ arm to make him stop.

Stiles glares fiercely at Derek’s hand until the Prince lets his arm go, then he moves his glare to Derek’s face. “Enough! Next time you contact me, I’ll ask for a restraining order against you.”

The Prince’s eyes bulge and he takes a step back. “I’m sorry.”

Stiles turns on his heels and leaves, feeling triumphant.

The feeling doesn’t last long though. He marches into his sister’s house and flops down on the table beside her, as always she was waiting for him with their dinner ready. Or so he thought.

“Where’s my plate?” he asks, confused.

Lydia is looking at him just as confused as he is. She tilts her head at him. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean? I live here,” he says chuckling.

Her eyebrows go up to her hairline. “You don’t know.” Then she’s getting up and looking for something at the sideboard.

He waits patiently as she flips through her magazines.

When she sits again, her hand is stretched towards him with a magazine on it. “You should read more.”

Stiles rolls his eyes at her but accepts the offered object. Derek’s on the cover. He tosses it aside and huffs. “I don’t care about Derek’s life. I don’t want to know whatever it is. Now, where’s my plate?”

Lydia grabs the discarded item and puts it on the table in front of him. “Read. It.” she punctuates.

So he does, and what he finds inside it’s something he never thought he’d ever read. Derek giving an exclusive interview about how he stepped down from his position in line to the throne and terminated his relationship with the princess of Basthon, because he’s gay. 

Stiles looks up at his sister, gaping and with wide eyes. She smiles at him. “What are you doing here?” Lydia asks again.

He gets up so fast that he faceplants on the floor. “I’m okay, I’m okay.” he throws back as he runs to the door.

-

Stiles goes after Derek in the palace. He already knows his way around it. The guards know him too, so he has no problem in getting in just like he has been doing for more than a decade. 

He quickly finds himself in front of Derek’s closed bedroom door. He ran all the way here, so he knocks on the Prince’s door, still catching his breath.

“Mom, I told you I don’t want to talk.”

“It’s Stiles,” he says. He smiles when he hears noises of things falling and Derek cursing. 

Derek opens the door hastily, looking as if he couldn’t believe Stiles was really there. “Stiles, you’re here.”

He keeps smiling at the man he loves. “I read your interview.”

Derek returns the smile and steps aside for him to go inside. As soon as he’s in and the door is closed, Derek is on him, kissing him, ravishing his mouth, touching every part of his body that he can. Soon, they stumble up to the bed—Derek on top of him—as they both scramble to take off each other’s clothes.

When they’re down to their underwear, Stiles suddenly stops with a hand on Derek’s chest. “Wait, wait.”

The Prince sits on his heels. “What? What’s wrong?’

“I just.. I need to know that this is not… that we… I don’t want to be your dirty little secret anymore,” he says, looking away from his lover.

Derek cups his face, and he’s smiling. “Stiles, I love you. And the only reason I dated Paige and was about to marry her was because I thought I had no choice. My mom caught us in bed, naked.” 

“Oh my God,” Stiles whines.

The Prince chuckles. “I thought my mother brought Paige here because she wanted me to marry her, I didn’t know she just wanted me to come out to her and tell her you were the one I wanted. Until you told me that she apologized to you about us, so I confronted her.”

He laughs softly at his Prince. “What a mess she made.” Then he leans in and gives Derek a peck. “So, you love me?”

Derek grins. “I do, I really do.” 

The Prince gets up from the bed. “In fact, I have something for you.”

“A present!” Stiles shrieks in delight. 

He loves presents, especially from Derek. What he doesn’t expect, though, is that when the Prince turns to him with a box in his hand, he lowers himself on one knee. Stiles thinks that he must have fainted.  _ It can’t be. _

“Stiles,” Derek starts, opening the box. And fuck him,  _ it is a ring _ . “Will you marry me?”

His face split in a wide smile, and he throws himself on Derek. “YES!”


End file.
